


Salt Water's No Drink

by j_gabrielle



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Abstract, Established Relationship, Freeform, M/M, Touch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 17:44:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4445750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_gabrielle/pseuds/j_gabrielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He watches Hannibal breathe and it is like watching the sea outside their window on a sunless winter morning</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salt Water's No Drink

Will touches the corner of Hannibal's lips, tracing the trajectory of his mouth. He feels the soft exhales of air on the back of his hand. Hannibal sits as still as a stone on the bed, naked next to him.

One of them should close the window. The rain is starting to pick up over the crashing of the waves on the shoreline below their cottage on the cliff. There is thunder. Below in the kitchen, the dogs are caught up in a hurricane of unrest.

Hannibal's eyes flutter close. Will leans in. He watches Hannibal breathe and it is like watching the sea outside their window on a sunless winter morning. Will tilts the palm of his hand, settling it on the curve of Hannibal's jawline. The feel of stubble under his skin tickles in the best of ways. 

Almost imperceptibly, Hannibal turns his head into the touch. His lips brush against Will's wrist, ghosting over his pulsepoint. 

Will reaches up with his other hand, caressing the curl of Hannibal's ear. 

When Hannibal moves to push him back onto the covers, he goes like a feather in a storm. He watches as Hannibal slides himself into the cradle of his hips, running his hands over Will's body, lingering on old scars, mapping out the constellations of freckles and moles and stories never will be told on the expanse of skin.

Hand find hand, join. 

Hannibal arches, lips opening to press at the divot of Will's throat. There is no fear. The time for that has passed.

Will closes his eyes, breathing deep. He leaves Hannibal to his ministrations, feeling each caress, feeling each press and slide of skin and sinew against him. 

"Kiss me."

The words are loud, spoken with a voice crackled from emotion and disuse. Outside the wind is a devil's dance. They really should close the window.

Hannibal's fingers against the corner of his eyes prompt him to open them, blinking up at the man. "Kiss me." He says again.

And really, who is Will to refuse him?

 

**Author's Note:**

> I really should be studying for my next paper, but all I can think about is writing fics. Help.
> 
> The title is inspired by the speaking part in Florence and the Machine's new music video for Queen of Peace and Long & Lost. Watch it. So beautiful.


End file.
